Best Friend, Worst Enemy
by Rochelle Lynne
Summary: Hermione is cursed with the worst of things. And Ron and Harry just have to make sure she dosen't kill them.
1. Default Chapter

•8• Best Friend-Worst Enemy •8•  
  
by Rochelle Lynne  
  
8•8•8•8•8•8•8•8•8•8•8•8•8•8•8•8•8•8•8•8•8•8•8•8•8•8•8•8•8•8•8•8•8•8•8•8•8•8• 8•8•8•8•8•8•8•8•8•8•8•8•8•8  
  
"And the house cup goes to..." Dumbledor's soft voice echoed throughout the Great Hall. Every student sat on the edge of their seat, waiting to hear the name of the winning house.  
  
This year, unlike many others before, Professor Dumbledore had decided to hide the hourglasses behind a black curtain in the main hall. Not one of the students had a clue as to which house had won this year. Ravenclaw had done extremely well. And Slytherien worst than usual.  
  
The students wide eyes fixed themselves on the shiny pair of half moon glasses.  
  
"... SLYTHERIN!?"  
  
Even the old headmaster sounded surprised. Clearly, this had not been the answer when he had last checked the hourglasses.  
  
The Slytherian table sounded in a great cheer. None of the other houses clapped, the surprise was stunning.  
  
"Ah, well, Slytherian decorations then..." Dumbledore stuttered, trying to recover himself. With a flick of his wand, silver jets shot out of his wand and Slytherian colors draped the walls.  
  
"Let the feast begin!"  
  
The tables filled with food. But only the Slytherian table began to eat. All of the other students felt something wrong. Very wrong.  
  
"Harry, look at Snape," Hermione whispered. Ron and Harry's heads turned to the greasy git that wanted to be headmaster. It was plain to see what Hermione had been talking about.  
  
On Snape's face was the widest, ugliest, teeth baring smile. His cheeks were red from effort, but he was smiling none the less. And his eyes, the usual dark tunnels were a bit brighter. Sparkling almost. Yet, it wasn't with a friendly gleam. It was a maddening one.  
  
"I wonder what's wrong with the git," Harry mussed, rubbing his scar out of habit.  
  
"Probably had a bad glass of pumpkin juice," Fred, whom had been listening in on the conversation, said. George chimed in a second later.  
  
"He's probably working it out of his system, from the look on the bloke's face."  
  
The trio had to fight to keep a straight face.  
  
The clatter of forks, goblets, and plates started to sound, showing the school's shock at the Slytherian's win edging off.  
  
"I have a weird feeling about him though..." Ron added. His usually freckled face was a bit whiter now, making the freckles stand out even more. "There's something wrong, I can feel it." Hermione and Harry exchanged a look. This was anything but Ron's nature. Hermione placed a comforting hand on Ron's arm.  
  
"Well, whatever it is, we can get through it," she said. Harry thought back to all the adventures that he had encountered over the last four years. Nothing in the Muggle world, and certainly nothing with the Dursleys had prepared him for the thrills that had awaited him.  
  
"Let's go back up to the Common Room," Harry said. He wanted to talk to his friends alone. Something was not right.  
  
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"What is it Harry?" Hermione asked anxiously as she seated herself on a plush red chair. Harry looked around the room, making sure that no one was in it to eavesdrop.  
  
"Snape," he said simply. His forehead was scrunched up in thought. "Snape has something to do with the house cup, I'm sure of it."  
  
Ron looked at Harry. "It's only the house cup, and besides, we go home soon."  
  
"It's more than that, isn't it Harry?" Hermione asked. Harry nodded slowly. Ron just gave a bewildered look.  
  
"But Snape, he is on our side, Dumbledore said so," Ron added, feeling quite unsure of himself.  
  
"Dumbledore thinks Snape is on our side. He could be a double agent for Voldermort." Ron flinched as Harry spoke the name of He-who-must-not-be- named. Hermione and Harry watched as Ron tried to find a defense.  
  
All of a sudden, Ron's hands clenched the arms of the chair he was seated in. His face want deathly pale and his eyes rolled to the back of his head.  
  
"The Dark Lord. He has a faithful follower in the castle. Voldermort will come soon. No one will suspect a thing..." Ron's voice had gone steely, but it was his voice the same. Hermione made a terrified move to go and help Ron, but Harry made a monition for her to stay still.  
  
"Listen," he whispered. Hermione gave a frightened nod and forced herself to sit back down.  
  
"The one closest to the enemy will be branded," the voice continued. "They shall help the Dark Lord. With or without their right mind."  
  
Hermione gave a great sob, hiding her face in her hands. Harry put an arm around her to comfort her. Just then, Ron broke out of his trance.  
  
"Sorry," he mumbled. "Must have dozed off a bit." Ron caught sight of his friends in a seemingly inmate pose.  
  
"Hope I'm not interrupting anything," he said, a sharp glint in his eye.  
  
"Oh Ron, it's nothing like that!" Hermione cried as she launched herself, sobbing, into Ron's arms. Ron looked startled at first, before wrapping his arms reassuringly around her waist, whispering words of comfort into her ear.  
  
"Ron," she sobbed. "you went into a trance. Someone else was speaking for you. They said... they said..."  
  
"They said that the Dark Lord has a faithful follower," Harry informed. "They said that the one closest to the enemy will be branded, that they will help Voldermort with or without their right mind." Ron's jaw dropped. Suddenly, he was very glad that he had Hermions hugging him, otherwise he might have fainted.  
  
"Did I say that?" he asked weakly. It was now Ron that needed the comforting. Harry stood up and helped Hermione guide Ron back to his seat. He gulped and looked up at his friends helplessly. Hermione was about to say something, but the sound of Hogwarts students returning from the feast erupted from behind the portrait of the Fat Lady.  
  
"Up to bed!" Harry shouted over the noise. "We'll talk about this tomorrow." Ron and Hermione nodded. They bided each other farewell and headed up the stair case before the horde of students came in.  
  
But hidden in the shadows, the pair of eyes of the new enemy watched as Ron and Harry made their way to bed. "I'll get you Potter, if it's the last thing I do."  
  
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The next day, the trio met at breakfast and decided to sit at the end of the table, away from the population of Gryffindor students.  
  
"It's one of us, isn't it?" Ron broke the uneasy silence. He, like Harry, had been awake most of the night, trying to figure out what the message had ment.  
  
Hermione gulped uneasily. "You mean it's one of us?" she asked. Harry and Ron nodded.  
  
"That's what I came up with. Hurry, let's eat and we will have to go into the girl's bathroom to figure this out," Harry said.  
  
Five minutes later the three hurried out of the great hall before anyone else. They slowly climbed staircases and corridors before they reached the familiar door.  
  
"No one's coming. Get in!" Hermione said and the three dashed inside the bathroom.  
  
They could hear a great sobbing noise coming from one of the stalls, and it was clear that Moaning Mertel was there.  
  
"Alright, I have been thinking about this," Harry said. "Ron said that the servant was going to be branded or marked or something like that."  
  
Hermione nodded.  
  
"Well, what is Voldermort's mark?" he asked.  
  
"The Dark Mark," answered Hermione and Ron in unison.  
  
"Common, let's see your arms."  
  
The three experienced a very pregnant pause before Ron and Hermione lifted the sleeve off of their left arm.  
  
There, embedded on white skin, lay the evil scar. A skull with a snake coming out of it's mouth. A terrified gasp was heard and a splash, as Hermione fainted.  
  
  
  
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	2. 

Best Friend-Worst Enemy  
  
By Rochelle Lynne  
  
  
  
It was Hermione.  
  
Plain and simple as that. Three words that Harry and Ron had thought at the same time. In the small amount of time before Hermione had fainted on the floor.  
  
They simply stared at one of their best friends, laying in a pool of cold water.  
  
"Ron?" Harry asked, his voice extremely quaky. "Are you okay?"  
  
Harry's eyes darted to the side so he could see Ron.  
  
"Why her?" he asked no one in particular. His eyes were filling up with something that looked remarkably like tears, but he brushed them away before they had fallen.  
  
"I would have rather it been me!," he screamed to Harry, who looked sympathetic, but taken aback.  
  
"Damn those bastards, making her the one. What bisness did they have? She has NEVER done anything that was wrong, not once," he ranted.  
  
"Ron, yelling isn't going to do any good. Let's get her off the floor," Harry said, bending down to lift Hermione. Ron gulped and followed suit. Taking a deep breath, he pulled down her robe sleeve, covering the mark.  
  
"Hermione, wake up," Ron gently said as he cradled her face in his hands. Ron really did care an awful lot for Hermione, something that he told Harry the first week of new term. But he had failed to mention one word of it to Hermione.  
  
"Common Mione, wake up!" Ron said a bit more urgently. Hermione's eyes fluttered a bit and opened. She saw blurry visions of her friend's heads, and blinked several times until they came into focus.  
  
They all stared at one another for awhile. Hermione sat up and wiped her eyes.  
  
"It's me," she said. She hung her head, feeling dejected. Her arm lay protectively over the mark beneath her sleeve. Taking one last glance at Ron and Harry, she stood up.  
  
"Harry, I want to think reasonably about this. We can't have any contact until I can be sure it is safe." Ron and Harry nodded dumbly.  
  
"If I send you anything, send it to Sirius or someone so that they can check it for enchantments or spells or curses. And whatever you do, don't forget that you are one of my dearest friends. I'm sorry," she said, launching herself into Harry's arms. He wrapped an arm around her waist awkwardly and patted her head. Soon, sniffling, she pulled away.  
  
  
  
"Ron, I'll try my best not to kill Harry. I swear I will. I don't think we should see each other over summer holiday until I get this figured out. I mean, I could kidnap you as a way for Harry to come closer or something and I..."  
  
Hermione was cut short be Ron kissing her fully, but gently on the lips. He pulled away and looked into her eyes.  
  
"Oh Ron! I'm going to miss you so!" And without another word, she ran from the Girls' Bathroom.  
  
  
  
***  
  
  
  
The next day, the Hogwarts Express left Hogwarts, bringing all students home. There were three people on board with exceptionally bad moods. And they were sitting at opposite ends of the train.  
  
Harry and Ron had decided to sit at the front, so that the older students and Prefects could keep an eye on them. Hermione, in turn had decided to sit at the caboose, which, unfortunately, held Draco and his gorilla like bodyguards.  
  
"Well well well, it looks like the almighty Granger has decided to come and grace us with her presence," Draco said, casting his ice blue eyes in Hermione's direction.  
  
"Shove off Malfory," she said, keeping her eyes on the passing scenery.  
  
"Looks like her boyfriend Potty dumped her." The remark, surprisingly, came from Goyle. But his moment of fame and glory were cut short as Hermione cursed both Crabbe and Goyle, knocking the idiots, eyes closed and onto the floor.  
  
"Dimwitted, ain't he?" Hermione asked, smiling up sweetly at Draco. Draco looked taken aback for a second, before choosing to sit directly opposite her.  
  
"Slytherians, out now!" He commanded to the rest of the students in the car. All of them (all Slytherians) left without a word.  
  
Draco smiled at Hermione's astonishment.  
  
"Something in the Slytherian house. We have ranks. You are looking at the Ruler of the Fifth Years. The Sixth Years when we get back," Draco informed.  
  
"How nice for you."  
  
"Something is different about you Granger.... I can't put my finger on it...."  
  
"Nothing is different, just tired, that's all."  
  
"Where are your friends?"  
  
"I don't have any, not this summer."  
  
Draco blinked. And suddenly, he got an idea. Reaching into the front of his robe, he brought out a black crystal he had on a chain around his neck. He squeezed it ever so gently and watched Granger.  
  
Hermione grabbed the mark as she felt it prick. She noticed Malfory watching her intently.  
  
"It's just a cut," she lied, taking her hand away from her arm.  
  
Draco studied her closely.  
  
"It's the dark mark, isn't it?" he asked. Without waiting for an answer, he pulled up his sleeve and showed her his.  
  
"I didn't want it," Hermione said.  
  
"I didn't want mine either."  
  
Hermione's eyes filled up with tears of fear as she pulled up her sleeve. She hadn't had the courage to look at it herself, but as she compared it to Malfory's scar, she noticed it was different.  
  
There was a tiny X above the right eye socket of her skull.  
  
"How did you get yours?" Hermione asked, as she hid the gruesome thing.  
  
"Before any of us say anything, I want you to swear not to tell this to anyone. I will swear not to tell of your secret," Draco said.  
  
Hermione nodded in agreement.  
  
"My father," Draco began. "he is a death eater. My mother knows, but doesn't approve.  
  
"My father wanted me to follow in his footsteps. The first year, I told the hat I wanted Slytherian. That's where my father wanted me.  
  
" This year, during Christmas break, he..... he told me we were going to a party. And when we got to the house....  
  
"He forced me, against my will. He had his wand pointed at my temple the whole time. He said he would kill me if I didn't...." Draco choked on his words. He looked out the window before regaining composure.  
  
"Tell me, how did you get yours?"  
  
The whole story spilt out. About Ron's trance, about the dark mark appearing. About staying away from Ron and Harry.  
  
  
  
"It seems we finally have something in common Granger," Draco said, with a semisweet smile.  
  
"It's Hermione, Draco. Call me Hermione."  
  
*** 


End file.
